


Teamwork Is Awful

by I_have_horrible_writers_block



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Oliver Wood - Fandom, flintwood - Fandom, marcus flint - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Bottom!Flint, Everyone Is Gay, Lacrosse, M/M, Top!Harry, Top!Wood, bottom!Draco, minerva is great
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 15:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_horrible_writers_block/pseuds/I_have_horrible_writers_block
Summary: Wood and Flint are the two captains of their schools two lacrosse team, but when Minerva says they have to work as one team for the tournament, all hell breaks loose.





	Teamwork Is Awful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My sister Alyssa](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+sister+Alyssa).



Chapter One: Aw Shit

“Wood!” A fourteen-year-old Harry called after the lacrosse captain, “Ms. McGonagall said she wanted to speak with you!” His feet pounded down the crowded hallway, earning him glances and whispers from the older students.

Oliver held in his sigh, he’s just a kid he reminded himself. No matter how annoying it was that he had to be the one to train the ninth grader on a tenth grade and up majority team, he couldn’t let Potter see that. To McGonagall, he had rightfully earned his position, and Wood couldn’t clarify or deny that. Hell, he had never even seen the kid play. Yet once again, he was training some newbie that McGonagall saw fit to be on the team. 

“She said it was urgent!” Harry tugged on his sleeve, his messy hair and broken glasses being his most predominant features. Well, except for the giant lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Though his bubbly and toothy grin was a close runner up. 

“Thank you, Potter.” Oliver forced a believable, charming smile. He calmly removed the excited freshman’s tightly gripped fingers from his Auburn sweater. “I’ll make sure to go see her now.” Harry happily waved over his shoulder as he ran off back to his giggling friends. “Kids.” He muttered. 

Oliver was a senior in school, so freshmen always seemed so young to him, they seemed so pure. Except for the fact that all they talked about was losing their virginity and dating. He would often think to the olden days, where being a teen still meant scraping your knee and getting grass stains on your pants. Perhaps that’s why he joined lacrosse, to scrape his knee if he missed the ball, and to get the ever-present, non-removable grass stain. 

The whispered and muttered begs for approval would bring him back into the now. His society. Where fitting in meant more and was more crucial than being yourself. A society where individuality is encouraged, yet when performed, brutally judged. 

Oliver closed his locker door, and grabbed his bag to find McGonagall. His feet slowly hit the floor as he watched the world around him. It was awful. Using his peripheral vision, he could see five girls snickering about another’s haircut before the singled out girl’s male best friend came in and started yelling at the rude girls. He recognized the boy to be another freshman, he believed the boy’s name was Draco. Draco- something, Oliver usually couldn’t remember a name to save his life. So, he showed pride in himself when he successfully remembered Draco’s name. At least, his first name. 

A shoulder smacked hard against his own, making both members stumble backwards. Rubbing his shoulder, Oliver glanced up, ready to apologize. I shouldn’t get so lost in my own damn world! “I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, “I wasn’t looking where I was going and- oh, it’s you.” 

Annoyed was an under-exaggeration of the other member, “Watch where you’re going, Wood.” The spite, the anguish, the pure hatred in his voice would scare anybody in the school. Anybody, but Oliver Wood. A man who was used to the aggression from him. 

“You bumped into me, Flint.” Though that wasn’t entirely true as Oliver’s shoulder hit first. But it was so close, you almost couldn’t tell. 

“No, I didn’t,” Marcus huffed, “Didn’t you just say you weren’t even looking? Or can you not remember two seconds ago?” Slightly pushing Oliver out of his way, Marcus brushed off his black hoodie before walking towards the staff room. His matching combat boots smacking the ground as he went. 

“You’re not allowed in there,” Oliver called after him, yet when Marcus simply raised his right middle finger in response, he trailed after him. His feet travelling after the boots. Marcus was a far faster speed-walker than Oliver, so when the door closed right in Oliver’s face, he knew why. Grabbing the handle, he twisted it and pushed gently, hoping not to cause a disturbance. “Flint you’re not- Ms. McGonagall?”

“Oliver, come in.” McGonagall chirpily smiled, swaying her hand to silently offer a chair. “I’m glad both of you boys are here.” 

Oliver suspiciously sat down in the padded chair, watching Marcus’ every movement in case he tried to pull the chair out. Once seated, he, out of awkwardness, declined both biscuits and tea from his teacher. Marcus Flint sat to his left and was angrily munching away on a freshly baked chocolate-chip biscuit. 

He even eats angrily. Scrunching his face, he turned towards his beloved teacher. “Is something wrong? Are we in trouble? If we’re in trouble I can definitely say that Flint start-”

“You are not in trouble, Oliver. Next time, do not assume the worst and then instantly blame Marcus.” She sighed, her withered eyes blinking just once, in a slow, relaxed motion. Wood nodded repeatedly, mumbling a quick apology. “I though, still must be the bearer of bad news. Due to budget cuts from the board, there is simply not enough spots or time to have two separate lacrosse teams from each school in the championship.” Once again, her eyes closed almost hypnotically, “Each school can only bring one.” 

“So, you’re cutting one of our teams completely?” Marcus slammed his hands upon her table, “That’s not fair!” Both boys knew she favoured Oliver’s team, while Mr. Snape favoured Marcus’. So, if she was the one in charge of it all, Marcus wouldn’t be playing anymore. His anger rose higher as she glanced off to the side. 

 

Marcus’ fists clenched so hard he started to draw blood, the blood being as red as his face. Lacrosse had been his main priority and focus throughout school. It had been his reason for showing up to school every morning. Now that his career, which also included his scholarship, was threatened, he was ready to kill someone. Especially Ms. McGonagall. 

Flint snapped his head towards Wood in disgust, his eyebrows furrowing and nose scrunching, before snapping back to the teacher. As his hands began to shake, tears started to well up in his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall, he refused. Lacrosse had really been his future, he was going to get on a professional team and play for the world. Yet here he was, teary eyes and feeling more frustrated and distraught than he could ever remember because he wasn’t McGonagall’s favourite. 

“Ms. McGonagall!” Oliver piped up as he stood, surprising the three in the room, including himself, “As much as I hate him, he’s right, this isn’t fair. Just like it wouldn’t be fair if Mr. Snape just picked his team. As much as I love Lacrosse, I would risk giving it up if it meant that the teams would be scored equally, with no bias.” 

Flint looked bewildered and amazed, yet secretly, a hint of gratitude also rested on his tomato face. He tried breathing techniques, hoping that her hearing it from one of her prized students, would force her to reconsider. 

“Oliver, Marcus,” She addressed both boys with sorrow, resentment a stern voice, and a furrowed brow, “You both are ridiculous! How shallow do you think I am?” She sighed, loosening her features, “I am disappointed. I would never dream of cutting Marcus’ whole team! There are amazing players on that team.”

“You’re not cutting my team?” His voice broke, most likely due to the tears that were seconds away from falling. “Really?” Disbelief was painted on his face. As his face returned to his regular colour, he continuously glanced to Wood and then back to McGonagall, trying to grasp the idea that it was true, he wasn’t going to lose his team. Oliver smiled softly at him for a second before immediately blinking rapidly and going back to neutral. 

“Yes, Marcus,” She smiled softly, blinking a third time, “The list will be posted by tomorrow of who both I and Mr. Snape believe should be on the team. Oliver, Marcus, you both will automatically be on the team.” When both boys began to smile, McGonagall raised her hand, “Oliver?” He lowered his eyes to meet her directly, “I have made arrangements with both of your parents. Marcus is to go to your house after school so you two can work on bonding and collaborating respectfully-” She glanced at Marcus, “With each other.” 

“My dad-” Marcus attempted.

“He already consented to it.” She smiled, standing up, “We also called your work, and they think it is a lovely idea. Now, you two better get hurrying to Oliver’s home, his mother is waiting to meet you.” 

Both boys grabbed their bags, Oliver’s being a backpack, while Marcus’ was a satchel bag with sewed in longer straps for easier transport. McGonagall escorted them to the room’s door before shooing and rushing them out. As soon as Oliver, who was behind Marcus, stepped out of the staff room, she instantly closed the door. 

“Are you okay?” Oliver asked, Marcus’ eyes were still a little puffy and red due to the, almost, crying. “Flint?” Wood had to jog for a few seconds to catch up with a boy who quickly after being asked, sped walked away into the nearest male bathroom. Once again, a door hit Oliver straight in the face. Pulling the cylindrical-rectangular handle, he quickly stepped into the bathroom and locked it behind him. Stretching his feet into the room more, he saw and heard the running water. “Flint?” 

“What do you want?” A cracky voice asked from the only closed stall. They were the only two in the bathroom, and probably some of the only students in the school. Wood had to tie his shoe conveniently a meter away from Flint’s stall. Straightaway, he noticed the curled knees and figure sitting against the wall of the stall.

“Are you-” Oliver knew to choose his words wisely if he didn’t want to be mauled, “Are you happy about being on the combined team?” His gulp was a little louder than he wanted. Though barely audible, in an empty bathroom, it echoed extremely loudly.

“Shut up.” Oliver could hear the tears racing down the arrogant guy’s face.

I didn’t know he cried. Wood took a figurative step back on his life, as he heard the other boy sob his heart out. What is going on? What am I hearing? He knew he was listening to Marcus Flint cry, but, a part of him couldn’t believe that. Something in his brain refused to believe that Mean Marcus Flint could actually feel an emotion besides anger, that he could cry.

Oliver’s phone lit up, revealing the text message he got,   
\--------------------------------------------------  
FROM: Mum :) 

Hey, sweetie! When are you and your friend coming home? 

FROM: Ollie :)

Sorry, mum, I forgot to text you that I would be home late. And uhhhh I think we’ll be there in a little while…? Something's happening, I’ll have to tell you later! Love you, bye!

FROM: Mum :)

That’s fine! And okay, I’ll be waiting! Love you too, bye!  
\---------------------------------------------’

“Uh, my mum is wondering when we’re going to be there… any idea when you’ll come out?” Oliver didn’t want to rush him, he just needed something to tell his mother, the same mother who was patiently waiting to meet Marcus. God, he felt awful, making his mother wait, and then basically rushing someone who is crying to stop. Someone who felt needed a good cry. 

“Would you just shut the fuck up and leave me alone?” Marcus’ voice was even shakier, something Oliver didn’t see as possible. “Just go tell your mum that it’s only you going.” Flint’s sigh echoed loudly throughout the bathroom. 

“You’re not coming?” Wood was a bit disappointed, but he couldn’t see why. If Marcus didn’t come, it only benefited him. Or at least, that was what he told himself. What about mum? His mother loved meeting new people and was most likely hyping herself up to meet Marcus. She would be devastated if Marcus didn’t come, her entire hype gone. 

“No.” 

“You’ll get in trouble if you don’t.” Oliver’s warning was only met with a scoff from Marcus. He must not care about that. “Well, my mum wants to meet you. She likes meeting new people and she’s extremely kind, warm, loving, welcoming and-”

“Your mum wants to meet her son’s enemy?” Flint shifted his body so, though you couldn’t really tell, he was a centimetre closer to Oliver. His breathing began to relax and tears started to fall a little slower. He would be calm soon, as long as Oliver didn’t say anything that would upset him. 

Enemy? That word had dumbfounded Oliver, he knew they didn’t like each other, but he didn’t think they were enemies. Instead, he thought they were mere rivals, two dudes who just disliked each other, not two dudes who loathed each other. Of course, we’re enemies, why wouldn’t I think that? “My mum wants to meet everybody. Now, will you come out?” 

“No.”

“Why not?” Wood tried to make his voice as calm as an annoyed human’s voice could be. All he wanted was to go home, and he knew he wasn’t allowed to leave without Marcus. If came home by himself, his mother would’ve been furious. Furious for multiple reasons, the fact that he didn’t bring the new person back, he didn’t follow teacher instructions and that he would be in trouble for not listening. He could just hear her rant.   
Embarrassed was another understatement of Marcus’ deceiving emotions. The realization that Oliver had heard him crying was mortifying, it pissed him off more. What also pissed him off was that he couldn’t go to work that night, hell, he had to work to keep his and his dad’s house, he couldn’t just take a night off. Due to it being Friday, that night, his shift was 10:00 pm - 10:00 am. It had taken weeks to get his boss to allow him twelve-hour shifts on weekends. Yet it seemed as if it was for nothing. “Because fuck you that’s why.” 

“You don’t need to be so rude.” Oliver huffed. “Let’s make a deal, you come out and we go to my house, and I’ll forget this even happened. I won’t bring it up, use it against you, tell anyone, nothing. We can make this event disappear. What do you say?” He waited anxiously for Marcus to make a move. 

Oliver watched as Marcus seemed to stand in the stall, the stall door slowly clicked opened. There stood Mean Marcus Flint, eyes puffy from crying, tomato-faced, stuffy nose, and a need to have his mouth open in order to breathe. His head hung low, which shocked Oliver because usually Flint was so engulfed in his pride and confidence that his head was always to the clouds. “You give your word?” He squeaked.

“I give my word.” The boys awkwardly shook hands, Oliver was right to think Marcus had a firm handshake, the handshake almost broke Oliver’s fingers. Not really but, it felt like that. Tension filled the bathroom air as neither boy spoke. Marcus crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest while Oliver twiddled his thumbs. “Do you want a hug, or…?” 

“Dude shut the fuck up and don’t touch me.” Marcus swiftly walked over to the sink and splashed water onto his face. Wiping the excess water on his hoodie sleeve, he started to breathe in and out in a slow pattern. “You better keep to your end, or I’m killing you.” 

Oliver jokingly saluted to Marcus, “Sir, yes, sir!” He laughed, hoping to get a smile from Marcus, yet all he got was a glare. “Geez…” Lowering his hand, Wood extended his fingers and closed them again repeatedly. Nerves slithered up his spine, it was unbearably awkward watching Flint breathing in a pattern with his closed eyes. He didn’t look half bad. Actually, he didn’t look bad at all, he looked relaxed. Why is he suddenly pretty- nope! Not happening! He is so ew! Wood’s face scrunched in concern and he looked even more awkward. 

“What?” Flint snapped, his brows once again furrowed as his face finally calmed down. Oliver stood there in disgust at his own thoughts. Completely ignoring Marcus, which in turn, pissed Marcus off. “You know what, fuck it! I don’t care, let’s just go to your stupid house.”

A shoulder bashing into Oliver’s forced him out of his interesting thoughts. Realizing just what he said, Oliver happily nodded along, “Sir, yes, sir!” He repeated giggling to himself. Earning Marcus to look back to him and roll his eyes. That eye roll hid a small smile that appeared on Marcus’ face as he exited the bathroom. Though the smile vanished heartbreakingly quick, it still was there.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading I really hope you enjoyed!


End file.
